


Someday Somebody’s Gonna Ask You

by theshipsfirstmate



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, post-4x09, proposal fic, with a little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipsfirstmate/pseuds/theshipsfirstmate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post-4x09. All the times Felicity wanted to say “yes” and the one time she did. (And the one time she couldn’t.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday Somebody’s Gonna Ask You

_Title from “[Question](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEwFik6ObJs)” by The Old 97’s._

**Someday Somebody’s Gonna Ask You**

She hears it, clear as day, the moment she sets eyes on the ring, with its beautiful band and a diamond that’s massive, but somehow not gaudy. (That’s how you know it’s priceless.) She hears it, even over the high pitch of her mother’s excited squeals, even over the rush of blood that swirls in her ears.

 _Yes_.

Felicity’s never been the girl who dreamed of a massive white wedding. Her idea of domestic bliss had evolved over time. First, it was someone who would kiss her and mean it, then it was someone to come home to, then it was someone who was her partner, in every sense of the word. Then one day, it was just _someone_ , a name and a face.

Oliver’s going to propose. She can hardly believe it, except for that part of her, _most_ of her, totally can. What _is_ kind of unbelievable is how close the answer is to the tip of her tongue. It’s almost unconscious, that’s how ready she is.

 _Yes_.

She nearly slips, when he kneels in front of her in the lair, with a question on his lips and serious eyes. She nearly tells him right then, but her brain picks that moment, for the first time in her life, to be one step ahead of her mouth and she asks confused questions ( _Now_? _Here_?) instead of giving him the certain answer he’s looking for.

 _Yes_.

She sees it, when Curtis’ husband inadvertently tips her off to Oliver’s Ivy Town plans. She remembers that night, how his smile had been less than sure, how his knee had jiggled nervously under the dinner table. She thought he had just been worried about the souffles. (It’s somewhat comforting to know that she wasn’t really wrong.) She had spent the day tied in an anxious knot over the Hoffman’s preschool pressures, but she knows without a doubt that if he had asked her then, earnest eyes watching her through the candlelight, her answer would have been the same as it is now.

 _Yes_.

She almost blurts it out when he chases her across the party, but first, she has to solve the mystery of why he waited so long. His whole face drops when she tells him that she knows, and she feels the tiniest bit guilty for robbing him of the element of surprise. But this is more important. He’s backsliding, just a little, into old fears, she recognizes the look in his eyes. So, she gives him another verse of “my life, my choice,” (only this time, the pronouns are plural), because if he doesn’t know it by now, it’s time to sing the chorus again. 

She tells him they can have both, lays it out in a way that sounds like she’s leaving the choice up to him, and there’s a moment, just before gunshots pierce holes in their blissful bubble, when his face drops again, this time in blissful disbelief. She has a split second to wonder if he’ll ask her right then, in front of friends, family, and the Hanukkah lights, and she knows she’s got her answer queued up.

_Yes._

She tells him for good when she realizes he’s stupidly sacrificed his life once again to save those he loves, when he runs headfirst into danger looking for her. (She feigns outrage born from panic, though truthfully, she had expected no different.) She tells him, just so he knows, just once. She tells him to prove that there’s something that Darhk can’t take from them. She tells him so no matter what happens, they’ll have this moment. So he understands that the one thing that’s been holding him back, the fear of them being linked inextricably in this evil world, isn’t a burden at all. It’s a blessing. It’s not a weakness, it’s what makes them so strong.

“If you had asked me,” she breathes, heart stuttering when she realizes she’s finally about to let the word slip audibly from her lips, “I would have said _yes_.”

(It’s not until later, when his hand is pressed against the glass that divides them – eyes searching hers frantically, mouth forming “I love yous” that she can’t hear – that she realizes it wasn’t enough. She should have made him ask her then, or better yet, done it herself. Her sigh of relief when he pulls her from the chamber is partly for them, and how they won’t have to die not knowing for sure.)

Later, when he stands up in front of the crowd, glowing in the light of the Star City holidays, she’s reminded of another candlelit night, yet another romantic moment of theirs that got blown to hell. He had told her that night that she was the first person he could see as a person, and it had felt like “I love you.” Tonight, he tells the whole city – with the people that matter most standing front row center – that she’s the one who lights his way, and it feels like the proposal she’s been waiting for. Then suddenly, it is.

He’s on his knees and he’s smiling and saying her name like only he can, and she realizes that she’s thought of this in the long hours since her mother found the ring, but she hadn’t even come close to picturing it. Oliver’s eyes are sparkling up at her, shining with hope and something more, like when he told her about the dream he had, the two of them driving off into the sunset.

They had made that dream come true, against all odds, and now, this one was too. It takes her a long moment to realize all she’s in response done is nod, and she laughs a little in spite of herself when he has to be the one to say it first.

“Yes?”

She sinks down to meet him on his knees, pressing her answer again his lips with another laugh, because they’ve finally made it. His sure and steady hands tremble when he slides the ring on her finger and she whispers it again, just for them.

“ _Yes_.”

She means in it in the limo, when she tells him she could care less about the diamond. His question, her answer, the two of them together, that’s all that matters. Eventually, her cheeks start to hurt from smiling, because the next time she tells him “yes,” it’s going to sound like “I do.”

Then, all of a sudden, the world goes to hell.

Like everything else in their lives, it happens without warning. One moment his lips are warm against hers, then the fierce and frantic sound of gunfire is interrupting them once again. He protects her for as long as she can, and she whispers assurances that she’s okay as the world shatters around them.

“Felicity, please…” She’s losing consciousness as he pulls her from the wreckage, and one of her last thoughts is that they’re getting a good head start on “for better or for worse.” He sounds far away, even though he’s right there beside her, and this time, there’s nothing she can do to make him stop shaking. “Please, stay with me.”

She tries as hard as she can, but her lips won’t form the word.

 _Yes_.


End file.
